


the seas will roar at the sound of your name

by bowlingfornerds



Series: favourite fics [11]
Category: The 100
Genre: Alternative Universe - Modern Setting, Bellamy is deaf, British Sign Language, F/M, Fluff, Love, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 11:05:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5161391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowlingfornerds/pseuds/bowlingfornerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They met between the shelves in a library. Bellamy has been deaf since he was thirteen and Clarke meets him and wants to go back for more.</p><p>Or, five moments in Clarke and Bellamy's life from the day they met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the seas will roar at the sound of your name

**Author's Note:**

> Forward: I can't sign, but I wish I could, and I am trying to learn. (It's slow going, unfortunately.) The sign language here is British Sign Language, so I assume it's a little different to any other. I came up with this idea when I was sleep-deprived and in the middle of the night, so I hope you guys like it.
> 
> (If I have made any mistakes or anything like that regarding sign language or who are deaf, definitely notify me, thank you.)
> 
> Enjoy.

**i.**

They met between the shelves in a library, stacked books on either side of them and a boy, on the floor, poring over a textbook. Clarke wandered through, her eyes scanning for the right book; she needed one for Art History, and yet there was this boy – no, this _man_ , she noticed on a second glance – sitting with his back against the shelves and his nose in a book. Clarke tried not to disturb him, until she realised that the book she wanted was nestled directly behind his head.

“Excuse me,” she announced, her fingers knotting themselves together. The man didn’t move or even acknowledge her presence, so she frowned. “Excuse me,” Clarke repeated, louder this time. She clapped once and the man’s eyes didn’t even flicker. Clarke groaned internally, annoyed by being stuck with the rudest person on the planet, the one day she really needs to get her essay finished, so she crouched down.

“Excuse me,” she repeated loudly. She was next to him now, and he turned towards her, wide-eyed, surprised. She felt an inkling of satisfaction over this, but was wholly confused to why he hadn’t heard her – or he’d ignored her – earlier on. “The book I need’s behind you head,” she told him. He stared at her blankly for a moment before releasing the book in his lap and making a series of quick gestures.

 _Oh_ , Clarke realised. _He’s deaf._

“Oh,” she said allowed, eyes widening. “I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t hear her but she said it anyway, worrying her lower lip as she tried to figure out how to talk to him. Up close, she noticed freckles danced across his cheeks and his eyes were the same colour as dark chocolate. His hair wasn’t very long, but ruffled, and his lips quirked up in a smile when he realised she had tried to keep talking to him anyway.

He made another sign and Clarke just frowned, not understanding him. He nodded though, picking up a piece of paper and a pen from beside him as Clarke plopped down to the floor, cross-legged – she guessed her book could wait. He scrawled something across the page and showed it to her; his handwriting neat and tiny.

 _My name is Bellamy_.

“Bellamy,” she said aloud with a smile, because he couldn’t hear her and she liked the way it sounded on her tongue. Clarke leaned forward, taking his outstretched pen and writing below his note.

 _Clarke_ , it read.

Their words contrasted massively, she noticed; his all perfect and tidy, and hers a large, loopy mess. Bellamy’s lips still turned up in a smile however as he read the note; mouthing it to himself.

“Clarke,” he said aloud, a little off on the ‘a’, but his voice was low and perfect and Clarke’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, because she didn’t know that he would be able to speak well. He scribbled something on the page before showing it to her.

_I can speak, yeah._

Clarke took the pen and wrote her reply.

_Sorry, I didn’t know you could._

Bellamy just smiled.

_I didn’t go deaf until I was thirteen, so yes, I can speak._

Clarke nodded before smiling at him, because he was smiling at her and he was a goddamn vision. He wrote something down without looking before showing it to her.

_Was there something you were going to ask?_

Clarke remembered her book all of a sudden, before nodding, despite herself. She wrote that the book she needed was behind his head, and he rolled his eyes with a smile, shifting out of the way. She thanked him, pulled it out, and looked back to where he had started to move the paper away, back to the floor. Clarke didn’t want him to think that she didn’t want to talk to him, however, because she did – she just had an essay to write.

So, Clarke darted forward, taking the page and scribbling a response before getting up. They waved goodbye and Bellamy turned towards the paper just as she looked away.

_I have to write an essay, but text me?_

And her number was scribbled below.

 

**ii.**

The next time she saw Bellamy, he was at a table with a laptop. His baseball cap was on backwards and his fingers typed rapidly. Clarke looked over to her regular table before shrugging and heading over to his. She silently took the place beside him, slipping her books up onto the surface before looking at him.

Bellamy was smiling back, and it lit up his face like a Christmas tree.

She signed _hello_ , which was essentially just a small wave, and he raised his eyebrows, surprised. Clarke hadn’t learnt much yet; teaching herself in the evenings or between classes, but she was slowly getting there.

He replied in kind with a smile, _hello, how are you?_ And Clarke smiled to herself because she had learnt this and its response. She absently wondered how many people could talk to him in sign language, before replying.

 _I’m fine,_ she replied, tapping her chest quickly and using two thumbs to point outwards. They moved on and Bellamy tested her to see how good her skills were, but it was obvious she was struggling when she winced at some of the questions. Bellamy’s smile only grew wider though as she kept trying, before eventually reaching into his bag and pulling out a note book and a pen.

 _How long have you been learning that_? He wrote.

 _I got a book on sign language the day we met,_ she scribbled in return. Bellamy raised his eyebrows but he seemed to be having a hard time keeping the smile off of his face.

Clarke secretly glowed as she realised that she was at fault for that.

 

 **iii.**  

A month and a half from the day they met, Bellamy was sat on her bed for the first time. He had volunteered to teach her sign language a while back, and she was happy enough to be a participant in his learning to lip read. They sat opposite each other, cross-legged, as they spoke; Clarke having to pause every now and again to remember the actions, but managing to hold an entire conversation with him.

He’d been learning for about ten years, so his movements were fluid and quick, but she noticed him slow down on the harder phrases and, for that, she was thankful.

When there was a lull in conversation he sat up, before pointing to her, then he brought his fingers to his lips before kissing and drawing them back. _You are beautiful_. Clarke smiled, not knowing how to reply, so she leaned down, writing her response on the paper they kept between them.

 _What a line,_ she wrote. Bellamy grinned at her as Clarke sat back up, pointing to him. She then used the flat of her hand to gesture around her face in the way he had shown her. _You are handsome_ , she had signed.

 _What a line,_ he replied on the paper. They laughed and Clarke found herself watching him as they did so; the way he tipped his head back and the light hit his eyes. He was beautiful and she wondered if he had ever really known. He signed something to her but she didn’t catch it, furrowing her brow as she tried to understand. Bellamy shrugged, though, not minding, and wrote down what he had said in his infuriatingly neat handwriting.

_Did it work, though?_

Clarke stared at the words for longer than necessary before looking up at him. Bellamy was already staring right back; his gaze careful but on her. Instead of replying, she sat up, leaning forward and propping herself up with her hands. Clarke was slow about it, in case he wanted to stop. But Bellamy moved into the kiss; slow and gentle at first, lingering as he sucked on her lower lip and she smiled into his mouth. Bellamy’s hands cupped her face; fingers carding through her hair as she opened her mouth for his tongue.

It was beautiful and sweet, long and caring and she wondered if everything under his touch felt so perfect.

 

**iv.**

She met his friends and his sister. They could all sign easily, as if it was just an extension of themselves and Clarke watched them all, picking up on their actions and sometimes having to wonder what they meant.

Bellamy lived with his sister, Octavia, a beautiful woman with long hair and long legs, who smiled so sweetly at her when she entered but glared as if she were a storm in a woman the moment her brother left the room.

“If you are not serious about this,” she had warned, stepping closer to Clarke as she hissed. “I will end your life.”

“Good thing I’m serious about this then,” Clarke had shrugged, turning away from the brunette and following Bellamy out into the living room. Octavia didn’t make any more threats and she acted as if she even _liked_ Clarke for the rest of the day, which confused her even more.

Bellamy seemed to have his own group of friends; each of them rolling out the signs even if they weren’t talking to him; muscle memory so he could jump in on a conversation and continued to feel as if there was conversation and inclusion around him. His best friend was Miller; a stoic man who signed as fluidly as Octavia, but didn’t put in as many facial expressions. His voice was deep when he spoke alongside it, and he was nice enough to Clarke (until she beat him at Mario Kart – then he ignored her for the rest of the day).

The other two men were more like boys – Octavia’s friends, she was told, who signed either too quickly or too slowly, but they carried conversations like they’d been doing it for years. Jasper was taller and more excitable, and Monty was quieter with a shy smile, and together they formed a constant comforting presence; like someone in that room actually liked her.

Then again, when she sat down Bellamy made a point to sit next to her; and his arm was draped over her shoulder at every possible moment. Clarke noticed Bellamy’s love of contact early on, and didn’t mind shifting closer or curling up on his lap. In return, he would kiss her soundly and run his hands across her body. Even if he couldn’t hear her hums or moans of approval, Clarke made them anyway.

 

**v.**

Clarke practised the signs for weeks. She didn’t have a ring, nor did she aim to buy one. Bellamy and she had been together for two years and, while Clarke was using sign language without even realising it anymore, she was also constantly learning new bits and pieces for him. Clarke wanted to prove to him that she loved him; she wanted to show him that she was always going to be there, and that he was everything she wanted.

The signs she’d learned didn’t cover every conceivable emotion for Clarke, but she had tried. She had written a speech and drawn every sign underneath it, practising it in the shower or whenever he was out.

When Bellamy entered the bedroom, he found her sitting cross legged on the bed. It was only a moment before her joined her; this position regular for the two of them, how they would learn and speak as well as they could to each other. He waved his hello and Clarke did the same back. She found it easier to speak as she signed, so she did.

“Bellamy,” she started, using the sign for his name that he had come up with. “I love you.” He returned the sign, pointing at himself, placing his hands over his heart, and then pointing to Clarke once more. But he continued.

 _What’s this about?_ He asked, a worried expression on his face. He had already ruined her speech, but she smiled anyway, rolling her eyes.

 _Nothing bad_ , she replied. _I promise_. Bellamy eyed her for a moment before holding out his little finger, to which she wrapped her own around. He smiled then, nodding for her to continue.

“I love you and there’s nothing you could do to make me stop,” she continued, pausing to remember the right sign. Bellamy nodded and Clarke cut to the end. She wanted his answer and she wanted to say it; really be able to say it out loud. He knew that she loved him, he knew that she was in it for the long haul.

Clarke made a question mark with her hand before pointing with her whole hand towards Bellamy and then to herself. She made two ‘C’ shapes with her hands, next, and circled them on top of the other with the palms faced. Last, she clasped them together.

“Will you marry me?”

It was silence before he replied; before his face lit up and he nodded furiously, surging forward, his lips on hers, hot and heavy, and her back pushed down to the mattress.

“Yes,” he told her, again and again, whispering it into her skin. She grinned back, laughing through the kisses and letting his hands trail her body. He trailed his lips from her mouth to her neck, sucking on her pulse. His lips were like fire, burning her body with his marks. Clarke couldn’t wait to go up in flames.

**Author's Note:**

> AYE THANK YOU FOR READING!  
> I had fun writing this, so I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please remember that you can talk to me in the comments and I love receiving your thoughts!


End file.
